


Dance With Me

by missbenzedrine



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 01:22:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbenzedrine/pseuds/missbenzedrine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard hasn't seen Frank in a long time, but when the teenage boy shows up for his fathers' wedding, he certainly recognizes that smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance With Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is for prompt #89 on http://everythingsfrerardnothinghurts.tumblr.com/prompts
> 
> Thanks to [elle2706](http://archiveofourown.org/users/elle2706) for the beta :)

“Go get dressed, Gerard. Olivia and Camilla are coming over for dinner tonight.”

Gerard looked up from his coloring book, sighing. “Again? But Daaaad…” Just then, his Papa walked into the room carrying a flower bouquet. His fathers always tried to make the place more presentable when they had guests over. Especially the Ieros. Gerard thought they liked them best.

“Yes, Gerard,” his Papa said, joining the conversation. “Put on a nice shirt and some slacks, you know, the ones without the stain on them.” He turned to Gerard’s Dad, eyebrows raised under his thick-rimmed glasses. “Why does he still have those anyway? I thought I told you to give them to Goodwill weeks ago.”

“He likes them. They always did fit him better.” His Dad turned his blue eyes back to his son, “But, Gerard, it is best that you don’t wear them around company.” He looked back down at the newspaper sprawled across his lap. “Besides, you like Frank, don’t you?”

Gerard shrugged. Frank was alright. He could be kind of bossy though, and he always _had_ to have the shiny red car when they played with Gerard’s toys. Gerard liked the red car. “He’s okay.”

His Papa patted him on the back as he walked by, giving him a kiss on the top of the head. “Well, if you go get dressed, I promise to take you out for ice cream tomorrow, okay?”

Gerard smiled up at his Papa who was looking back with the same expression, and hopped off the stool he was sat on. He wrapped his arms around his Papa’s waist as high up as he could reach, “Okay! I’ll get dressed, thank you Papa.” He giggled and ran off to his bedroom, managing to catch his fathers’ last exchange.

“Hey, I’m supposed to be the fun parent. I thought we agreed on this.” He heard that gross little noise they made when they kissed (his dads said it was their way of saying ‘I love you’) and a laugh from his Papa.

“Well, we all have to have our moments.”

Gerard ran all the way up to his room, afraid that if he didn’t get dressed fast enough, his Papa wouldn’t take him for ice cream. Gerard really liked ice cream. He found the pair of slacks without the stain on them and pulled them on. He hated this pair, they didn’t fit right and he always fidgeted when he wore them. Just as he had started to pull on his dress shirt, he heard the doorbell ring and panicked a bit, buttoning it as fast as he could.

Voices flowed up the stairs to his room, the laughs of his fathers joined now by those of another two. He forgot to put on his shoes or even to tuck in his shirt before he bounded back down the stairs, beaming at everyone.  His fathers laughed when they saw him and Gerard frowned.

His Daddy reached out his arms and picked Gerard up off of the stairs, his hands hooking under his son’s arms. Gerard thought he was getting too old for that now, he was almost six after all, but he wrapped his legs tightly around his father’s torso so he wouldn’t fall. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, Gee,” his Daddy said good-naturedly.

Looking over the group in the foyer, Gerard saw that everyone was smiling; he didn’t understand. Even Frank, though Frank’s smile looked more like he was holding back a laugh. Gerard didn’t really like Frank.

His Dad turned away from the group, carrying him into the bathroom, where he sat him on the counter, beginning to unbutton the young boy’s dress shirt. “Why was everyone laughing at me, Daddy?” Gerard asked, confused. He didn’t like it when people laughed at him. He didn’t think it was very nice.

“They weren’t laughing at you, Gerard. They were laughing _with_ you,” his Dad told him. He had told Gerard that before, he wasn’t sure if he believed it though. Gerard hadn’t been laughing, so how could they be laughing with him? His Dad started to rebutton his shirt, putting the right buttons in the right holes this time. He picked Gerard up off the counter and set him on the ground, helping him to tuck in the dress shirt now. “Do you want to wear shoes?”

Gerard shook his head and his Daddy smiled, ruffling his son’s hair. “Don’t tell your Papa, but I won’t make you.” Taking Gerard’s hand, he led them both back out into the dining room.

Everyone was already sat down at the table. Gerard took his seat across from Frank and next to Olivia, her bright orange hair standing out to him more than ever. “How are you doing, Gerard? It feels like it’s been a long time, sweet pea. You’ve grown so much since the last time we saw you!” she exclaimed. Gerard smiled shyly. He doubted he’d grown. It had only been a couple of weeks since he’d seen Olivia and Camilla, and his fathers kept track of his height every week on the little chart upstairs. He hadn’t gotten even one inch last time they checked.

Gerard sneered as he saw the plate full of veggies that sat in front of him. Gerard’s fathers once told him the Ieros were _vegetarian_. That meant they couldn’t have meat. Gerard wondered if there was something wrong with them. But it also meant they always had something green and leafy when they came over. It was one of the reasons Gerard wasn’t very happy when they ate dinner with the Ieros. The grown up talk also bored him. He didn’t understand anything his fathers and Frank’s mothers talked about, so he didn’t bother to pay attention.

Gerard looked up as he felt something kick his shin under the table. He knew it had to be Frank. Camilla couldn’t reach him, and he knew his Papa wouldn’t kick him. But Frank was looking at his plate when he looked across the table, his eyes shielded by his dark hair.

“So, Frank,” Gerard’s Papa said, breaking away from a conversation with Camilla. “We hear you’ve started taking guitar lessons. How do you like it?”

Gerard looked up over at Frank, who started talking, his mouth still full of green stuff. “I like it,” he said, though it was kind of hard to understand around the bite of food. Gerard was sure his fathers would have told him that bite was too big to eat anyway. He giggled.

Frank looked over at him with narrowed eyes, but then laughed, pointing at the corner of his own mouth. Gerard lifted a hand and wiped at his mouth with his wrist, coming away with some of the red dressing staining the cuff of his dress shirt. He felt his cheeks burn. Frank definitely wasn’t laughing _with_ him.

Camilla added, “They told us he might be too young to start,” she said, smiling endearingly at her son. “I think he’s really enjoying it though.”

Frank nodded eagerly, his eyes still on Gerard with a smile on his face.

When dinner was over, his fathers cleared the plates from the table and his Papa pulled out a bottle from the cabinet. The dark red liquid sloshed around inside and Gerard knew it was time for him and Frank to go upstairs.

“Gerard, why don’t you and Frank go play upstairs for a little while?”

So Gerard led Frank upstairs to his bedroom. And of course, Frank went straight over to his toy chest and grabbed Gerard’s red car. Gerard didn’t say anything though, because his fathers had always taught him that it was nice to share. So Gerard took the blue car, which he didn’t like as much but he could deal with and started to wheel it around his roadway table with Frank.

Frank made _vroom_ noises the whole time and didn’t play by the right rules. Instead of waiting for Gerard to move when he was in Frank’s way, Frank just hopped his car over Gerard’s. That was rude, Gerard thought. And cars couldn’t fly anyways. He told Frank both of those things and Frank didn’t care. “I don’t play by the rules, Gerard,” he said and Gerard sighed, moving his car over a bridge.

“Do your dads ever fight?” Frank asked him at one point. Now his car wasn’t even touching the track at all. He was standing up, making it fly through the air of Gerard’s bedroom.

“Sometimes,” Gerard shrugged.

“My moms do,” Frank told him, bringing the car back down to solid ground again, this time lying on his stomach in the middle of Gerard’s floor though. “They were fighting right before we came over here. I don’t really know what it was about. They always make up though.” He rolled his eyes.

“What do you mean?” Gerard moved his car down to the floor too. It was too hard to try and talk to Frank when he was facing the other direction. He laid down on his stomach, mirroring Frank’s position.

“You know,” he responded, like Gerard was supposed to know. Frank furrowed his eyebrows, looking over at Gerard. He pouted his lips out, making a weird puckering noise.

“No, I don’t.”

Frank leaned over and pressed his lips to Gerard’s before Gerard could pull away. “Like that!” the other boy said with a giggle and a bright smile. Oh. Of course Gerard knew what _that_ was. He nodded.

“Oh, right. My dads do that.” His cheeks burned a bit, unsure if kids were supposed to do that. But Frank didn’t follow any rules, so he didn’t say anything. He didn’t talk to Frank anymore after that, playing with his car instead. Frank hardly seemed to think it strange at all though, so maybe it wasn’t. Frank did seem to know more about these things than Gerard did most of the time.

When it was time for Frank to go, Gerard’s Dad came upstairs. His eyes were bright and he was giggling a little more than usual. Just like he always did after having the stuff from that cabinet Gerard wasn’t allowed to touch. “Alright, Frankie, dear. Your mothers are ready to leave.”

Frank got up off the floor and walked out without even so much as a goodbye.

*****

_~Twelve Years Later~_

The anticipation was palpable. The air bubbling with the feeling, as the screen flashed from the woman reading the weather to the man reading out the newest local ordeals. The man looked so casual, so apathetic as he recited the news. This newscaster didn’t care one way or another what the verdict was, but right there, in his family’s living room, it was the most important news they’d received in a _long_ time.

“As you know, the polls have closed for this afternoon and votes have now been counted,” the man’s bored voice droned on. One would think he could have at least a bit of enthusiasm. Wasn’t that part of the job description? The man looked down at the paper in front of him. Gerard could have sworn he was watching this season’s finale of _America’s Next Top Model,_ because he didn’t think he’d seen his dads so on edge since then. “And it is official, gay marriage is legal in the state of New Jersey. More is to come about this decision later on tonight.”

But apparently it didn’t matter what more there was to come, because the following story about a woman’s miraculous appendix removal was quickly drowned out by the excitement of Gerard’s fathers.

 _We will not move, Gerard, that would be giving in,_ his father had told him once before. _Having legal verification of our love is not more important than maintaining our place in this community. We have enough as it is._

Even so, as was now evident, that didn’t mean they’d reject the opportunity should it arise.

Though Gerard didn’t hop up from his seat and start pouring champagne into glasses, he couldn’t help the pride that swelled up within him. He’d grown up not knowing why his fathers couldn’t have the same damn right to claim their love for each other legally as every other kid’s at his school. It hadn’t made sense to him, and he had grown to resent the government he lived under for it.  

“Gerard, join us!” his Dad yelled, motioning over at his son from the kitchen, waving two glasses of the shimmering liquid in his hands.

Gerard walked toward his fathers and took the glass that was offered to him.

“To us,” his Pa said, holding the glass up in the air. Gerard couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face.

“To you,” Gerard joined in, holding his glass up as well.

“And to the kick-ass wedding we’re going to have, because I’ve been planning this thing for twenty goddamn years,” his Dad added and they all laughed, clinking their glasses together.

*****

Two months passed and before Gerard knew it, it was the day of the wedding rehearsal. His fathers were running around, trying to make sure everything was perfect. Gerard was trying to help, of course, but the things he could do were limited. Even in the process of planning the wedding, the only thing he’d been allowed within five feet of was deciding on the music for the rehearsal dinner and even that had been hard to accomplish.

His fathers were killing themselves over this wedding. It had been a long time coming, and now that it was here, every last detail have to be absolutely perfect for the big day. Gerard had been a little surprised to learn that the wedding would be a fairly traditional one, expecting his fathers to go out of the box with decorations and themes. However, the outdoor setup was very mild. Tasteful white décor combined with pastel flower arrangements along the outskirts of the setting. Rows of ivory chairs filed back behind the altar.

By this time tomorrow, the place would be packed with guests (turned out Gerard’s fathers had quite a few more friends than he’d thought) and there would be a dinner set up around a small dance floor just to the right of the ceremony.

Despite his own surprise at the choices, Gerard could tell that this was his fathers’ vision. Just seeing their happiness with the whole ordeal grow over the last months, as they planned the wedding together, made him feel lighter inside. And maybe, he thought, maybe it gave him a little bit of hope that one day he’d be able to have the same thing with someone he loved. Maybe.

“James! Theodore!”

Gerard turned around, the voice shouting his fathers’ names nudging at some distant memory, just the barest hint of familiarity. When he saw the red-haired woman kissing his Dad’s cheek, a little ways away, that feeling was made even stronger. A dark-haired woman stood next to her, and beside her a boy who _definitely_ struck a nerve.

That inkling of a memory was given merit when Gerard saw his Pa give the boy a hand to shake. “Frank! Good lord, you’re practically an adult. Your mothers have certainly raised you well.” 

 _Frank._ Images of a little boy with a red toy car and a bright smile flashed through Gerard’s head. This certainly wasn’t the same kid though. He didn’t look anything like the five-year-old Gerard had an image of in his head. This kid was dressed in a button down and black jeans, a dark fringe hung in front of his right eye, short bleached blonde hair covered either side of his head. The thumb of one hand was hooked in the front pocket of his jeans while the other shook his father’s. His lips were pulled up into a genuine smile, showing a line of straight white teeth, and drawing attention to a ring that stuck out of his bottom lip.

Gerard began the short trek toward the small gathering.

The closer he got the more he realized that though his appearance was, understandably, drastically different, this Frank was definitely the same Frank he had met so many years ago. His eyes still the same golden-brown color he remembered, his smile still the same as it once was.

“Thanks, Mr. Way, I’m sure they love to hear that,” a soft laugh followed, Frank’s grin widening even more.

The red-haired woman wrapped her arm around her son’s shoulder. “We worry sometimes, but yeah. I think he’s turned out okay,” she kissed the side of his head. Her eyes landed on Gerard as he approached.

His Dad noticed he was coming over and smiled, gesturing to the newcomers in front of him, “Gerard, you remember Olivia and Camilla, our maids of honor?”

Gerard hardly had any time to process his memories before Olivia unwrapped her arm from Frank and pulled Gerard into a hug.  “Why, Gerard, darling,” she said. “It’s been so long.”

He returned the gesture, though haltingly. He may have remembered the people in front of him, but it _had_ been a long time. So long that his only memories were fleeting, flashes of hair and smiles. Nothing concrete.

When Olivia pulled back, he was quickly engulfed again by Camilla. Once she let go, a warm smile on her face, she gestured at Frank. “You two must remember each other. You were quite the buddies in your toddling years.”

Frank quickly stuck out a hand and Gerard only hesitated a second before taking it. “Hey,” the other boy said, giving Gerard the same breathtaking smile he’d given his fathers.

Instead of responding to Frank’s greeting, Gerard said, “Yeah, I remember,” while his eyes locked on Frank’s.

The rest of the guests began to show up, and Gerard let go of Frank’s hand, giving him a small smile.

*****

Chattering voices and laughter filled memories could be heard in the air as dinner came to a close. Even though the group was fairly small, those involved in the ceremony were certainly the most lively of his fathers’ friends. Gerard was glad to see his dads’ joy-filled eyes as they reminisced about college or anything else that came up in the drunken haze that followed the meal.

However, he felt terribly out of place. That’s why he found himself, about ten minutes after the last course, walking away from the group, to somewhere secluded and mildly silent. That was what he needed. 

Gerard had always been fond of solitude. He thrived on it. Being alone helped him think, it cleared his mind. So sitting behind one of the trees about a hundred feet from the night’s main attraction was ideal at that moment.

Once he had chosen a tree, one with a wide enough trunk for him to lean against, he sat down in the grass and crossed his legs beneath him.

It was a few minutes of pleasurable near-silence later that Gerard heard footsteps approaching.

To his surprise, Frank Iero sat down next to him on the grass, completely unannounced. The other boy’s face turned toward his and he asked, jabbing a thumb behind him at the party, “Not your scene?”

Gerard pulled his knees into his chest, watching as Frank pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one for himself before offering one to Gerard. He happily accepted and let Frank light it for him with his lighter. He caught a glimpse of the design on the side and grinned. Of course Frank was a Black Flag fan. 

“I don’t really have a scene,” he shrugged, taking a drag off the cigarette and blowing it up toward the green leaves blowing the breeze above him, watching the wisps of smoke unfurl in the air.

“Me either,” Frank agreed, chuckling. “But if I did, I doubt it would be hanging out with forty-year old LGBT advocates.” His smile remained, but dropped a bit, and Gerard probably would have given any amount of money to know what he was thinking.

A couple moments of silence passed between them and it was nice. They were far enough away from the dinner party that their noises and the softly playing music were a faint backdrop to the typical sounds of night: chirping of crickets and breeze through the trees in the distance.

“Where do you go to school?” Gerard asked around another exhale. He found it odd that he’d never seen Frank around. They should have been in the same district.

His eyes darted over to Frank’s face, and he caught the roll of his eyes. “Private school. We moved when I started school. Not far, just close enough to Queen that it wouldn’t be such a commute for me to go to school.”

Ah. That would make sense then. Gerard nodded. It explained why he hadn’t seen Frank since he was a kid. He was a little surprised though. Frank’s moms had always seemed a bit more the free-spirited type. Catholic school didn’t really seem like their style.

Before he could ask though, Frank continued, waving his cigarette hand around a bit as he explained, “The idea is that I have some form of discipline during the day. Guidance through schooling. They don’t really care that much about the actual bible study and shit I have to do.” He quirked a small smile, “After school though, Mommy dear doesn’t really care what I do, as long as I have that bit of religious study from eight to three.” He shrugged, the smile not leaving his face as he stared straight ahead. “It’s not all that bad, really. Kids in private school tend to be pretty cool, if you find the right ones.” He pointed at nothing as if to make way into his next point. “Of course, I guess I kinda live a lie while I’m there. Never brought more than one parent to a parent-teacher conference. Nuns would probably flip shit if they found out I had mothers _dos_.”

Gerard laughed, shaking his head. _I don’t play by the rules, Gerard,_ rang through his head, a distant memory in Frank’s youthful voice. Things never really changed then.

“So your moms don’t care that your school doesn’t approve of them?” Gerard asked. His dads were raised Catholic, but they never would have put him through that. Mainly for fear that it would have come out. He put up with enough shit for it at public school. It would have been hell at a Catholic school. If they even let them stay.

Another shrug. “Nah. They’re big on not giving a shit what other people think. It’s pretty cool actually.” Frank looked down at his shoes, kicking at a pebble under his toe. “It was always more important to them that I get a proper education.”

Gerard nodded, his cigarette coming to the end of its short life. He flicked it on the ground and smashed it under the toe of his dress shoe. “Well, be thankful then. Public school sucks ass.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard,” Frank laughed, still puffing slowly on his own cigarette.

“Pa thinks it’s the best way for someone to get acquainted with the realities of life, blah, blah,” Gerard sighed, biting at his lip.

Frank’s understanding tone surprised him. “No, I get that. I mean, going to Catholic school is like living in a bubble, you know?” Gerard didn’t know, but he nodded anyway. “I’ve never really had that. That idea of what it’s really like out there, I guess. I mean, I see the shit my moms get sometimes, but it’s not very often. I think people just assume they’re really good friends most of the time,” Frank smirked and gave a little chuckle.

Frank got him another cigarette and Gerard took it with gratitude, not failing to notice the way Frank’s fingers brushed over and lingered on his own when he passed it. That might have just been his imagination though. He watched intently the practiced way Frank’s fingers closed around the end of the small stick, shielding it from the growing wind to light it. It was getting chillier and Gerard could just make out the small shivers that shook Frank’s shoulders. He subconsciously made the decision and moved a little closer in the grass, trying to see if the closer proximity could help at all.

The small, grateful smile Frank gave him made Gerard’s heart do weird little jumps and he immediately turned back to his new cigarette, letting the hot smoke fill his lungs like a form of comfort.

To his surprise, Frank pushed against him even closer, his small body trembling still. Gerard didn’t make any move to stop him.

In the distance, the song changed and Misfits’ “American Psycho” started playing. Gerard cursed under his breath. Damn. He’d completely forgotten to take that off the CD. He’d done it as a joke for his dads, but he’d forgotten to delete it before burning the playlist onto the disc. They were going to kill him.

Frank shook against him, something that wasn’t a shiver, but a laugh. “Your dads don’t strike me as Misfits fans,” he said light-heartedly.

“I decided on the music, forgot I put it on there,” Gerard said just as the song changed right in the middle, a series of laughter coming from the group behind them.

“Nice,” Frank commented, and though Gerard couldn’t see him, he could hear the smile in his voice. “Great album, right? Got it on vinyl for my seventeenth birthday.”

“That’s fucking awesome,” Gerard said earnestly. “Wish I had some vinyls…”

Frank continued to tell him about his vinyl collection, all the artists he’d collected over the years, and Gerard listened intently. Apparently he was still playing guitar, told Gerard about the guitarists he tried to model his style after. It all really piqued Gerard’s interests, and he wondered if he’d ever get to hear Frank play.

At some point, Gerard realized Frank had stopped talking and was softly snoring, curled up against his side with his head propped against Gerard’s chest. Feeling the fatigue hit him suddenly, he felt Frank drowsily fold himself closer as Gerard wrapped his arm around his small form, fitting pliantly around his waist. He let himself doze off as well.

*****

If Gerard had thought the night before was crazy, the morning leading up to the wedding was absolutely terrifying. His fathers, determined to maintain the traditions of an orthodox wedding, refused to look at each other all morning. So Gerard was made messenger. He was relieved from some of his duty by Camilla and Olivia. But they mainly stayed by his fathers’ sides, giving him messages to relay back and forth.

The whole day leading up to the ceremony in the afternoon was a whirlwind. There were people Gerard didn’t know everywhere, carrying cakes and fountains and every imaginable wedding paraphernalia around, and situating it all in its proper place.

Despite how busy he was, it was nearly impossible for Gerard not to have noticed Frank’s absence when Olivia and Camilla had shown up that morning, his spirits, admittedly, deflating just the tiniest bit.

His attempt to ask about it nonchalantly had been easily seen through by Olivia, leaving him with a bright red blush and an internal scold.

“He’ll be here for the ceremony and the reception, don’t worry,” she’d said with a small smile and a squeeze of Gerard’s shoulder before heading off to help his Pa get ready.

So Gerard busied himself with different activities. This or that, whatever was needed. By the time guests started showing up, he was exhausted, already dressed in his tux and ready to go.

The weather was beautiful, sun shining above them, and not too cold or too hot that everyone would complain. 

Men and women in formal wear and bright colored fabrics started showing up, some greeting each other like long lost friends. A few of them approached Gerard, and whether he recognized them or not, he plastered on a smile and made small talk like he knew he was expected to. He didn’t mind though.

He kept scanning over the crowd, trying to find Frank when he showed up. It was getting close to time, and he still hadn’t seen him. He couldn’t help that part of him felt worried. Maybe Frank had decided not to come.

He was shaking the hand of an older man in a navy blue blazer when he finally spotted the bleached blonde hair he’d been expecting all afternoon. His smile grew and he tried to maintain his focus on the man in front of him.

“Oh, yes, my studies are going well, I’m considering a number of colleges, and I’ll be applying in the fall,” he nodded, his eyes kept diverting though, trying to follow Frank through the bustling crowd.

“Alright Gerard, well, I’m sure you’re a busy man this afternoon, I’ll let you be,” the man said, giving his hand a final shake and a small smile before he headed off to take his seat.

Gerard’s feet decided on their own to head in Frank’s direction. Why was he so eager? He was acting like a five-year-old with their first crush on the playground. When he got there, though, a realization hit him hard in the chest, his heart sinking to his feet. Frank wasn’t alone.

A girl in a dark purple, but summery dress was standing next to him, laughing at something Frank was whispering in her ear. The nauseous feeling in the pit of Gerard’s stomach wasn’t made any better by the gorgeous way the girl’s dark hair was held in a bun on top of her head, soft strands falling perfectly in front of her freckled face.

Suddenly Gerard was very conscious of the lack of perfection he’d put into his hair and the accidental smudge he hadn’t bothered to fix in his eyeliner that morning. Why had he even worn eyeliner? He probably just looked like an idiot. Under his breath, he cursed his poor decisions. He turned on his heel and started to walk in another direction, but it was too late.

“Gerard!” Frank’s voice called behind him, followed by a happy little laugh that made Gerard’s stomach want to fold in on itself.

He slowly turned back around and tried to act like he didn’t want to go puke in the nearest toilet bowl.

Frank was walking over toward him, the girl by his side still smiling. She stuck out her hand for Gerard to shake and he took it, a smile forcing its way onto his face.

“Gerard, this is—“

The girl elbowed Frank in the side, shooting him a glare. “I can talk for myself, Frankie, thank you very much.” Frank shrugged his shoulders, almost apologetically, and let her finish for him. “Jamia. I’m Jamia.”

 Jamia. Okay, then. Jamia the girlfriend. Because Frank wasn’t gay. Of course he fucking wasn’t. Why had Gerard even let himself have that fantasy? Just because your parents were gay, didn’t mean you were. Gerard was probably an exception. It probably always worked the other way around, skipped generations or something. Who knew? But Frank wasn’t gay. He felt so stupid, he could go bang his head on a wall. What was he thinking assuming things like that and getting his fucking hopes up after just one little tiny meeting? Something that probably hadn’t even meant anything to Frank.

He realized that he hadn’t said anything back to Jamia, and he blinked at her. “Oh,” he laughed nervously, “Gerard. I’m Gerard. My, uh, my dads are getting married.” As if that wasn’t obvious. The need to fall in a hole and die was slowly growing and he really needed to walk away.

Frank was giving him this weird look and Gerard really wanted to punch it off his face. He averted his eyes instead and looked at Jamia. “I have to go do some last minute preparations, but I’ll see you guys at the reception, I guess,” he managed to keep his voice as firm and confident as possible before walking away.

*****

Gerard managed to mostly forget about Frank and his stupid sexuality all the way up until the reception. It wasn’t all that hard to do, really. He just had to avoid looking at Frank and his girlfriend during the ceremony and any other time.

Besides, it was easy to get wrapped up in the happiness that was his fathers’ wedding. Everything wound up being as perfect as they’d wanted it to be, and the looks on their faces were enough to make just about anything else disappear for a little while.

With his fathers’ “I do’s” though, the reception began and the loud music and happy atmosphere made it impossible once again to ignore the cheery look on Frank’s face whenever he looked at Jamia.

All of the tables for dinner had marked seats where everyone was to sit. Luckily, Gerard’s was nowhere near Frank or Jamia who were sitting together. He was actually seated between an older woman and a man who appeared to be in his late twenties. Funny how Gerard hardly knew any of the guests at the wedding, all friends of his fathers he’d never met.

The woman made for decent conversation, and that combined with the DJ attempting to crack jokes over the loudspeakers was a perfect distraction.

As long as he could get through tonight, he’d never have to worry about Frank and his stupid smile and the way his soft little breaths expanded in his chest while he was sleeping and—no.

He took a deep breath and cut into his chicken breast vigorously.

“Well, sonnie, what did that poor chicken ever do to you?” the older woman—Margaret he’d seen her name was—said to him with a rough, smoker’s laugh.

He looked over at her, confused, and then took a glance down at the chicken on his plate. Oh. “Oh, uh. Nothing. I’m just really hungry.”

She continued to smile, giving him an almost knowing look before she directed her attention back to her own chicken.

At some point during dinner Gerard watched as Frank got up from his table, probably going to the bathroom, and walked past Gerard’s own table. He gave one of those gorgeous smiles in his direction and it was totally enough to make Gerard’s heart stop for a beat, but then he quickly looked away. He might have even glared a little bit at the other boy. _Wow. Just make it obvious you’re a desperate asshole, Gerard. Good one._

Dinner finished up, and the soft, filler-type music was replaced with faster paced dance music. His fathers danced to their song, receiving a number of excited remarks from the crowd, eventually quieting down until just soft ‘aww’s could be heard.

After they were finished, more and more people joined the dance floor until it was nearly packed with bodies.

Gerard watched as Frank took Jamia’s hand, making a whole scene out of it by bowing before he kissed her hand. She giggled and Gerard felt that feeling from earlier build up in his stomach. He waited a few songs before getting up and spotting his tree, wanting to make a beeline for it, because he didn’t know what else to do with himself. Before he could make it more than five feet though, someone was tapping his shoulder and he turned around. Olivia was standing there, hand out-stretched expectantly.

“Spare me a dance, Gerard? It would mean the world,” she said, her eyes twinkling a bit, and Gerard couldn’t say no.

He smiled and took her hand as she led him toward the dance floor.

The song was nice, a slow one, and it was easy for him to just place his hands on Olivia’s waist and not have to do much actual dancing.

“This is a lovely wedding, Gerard. I bet you’re so happy for your fathers,” Olivia said softly, her eyes scanning over the setting.

Gerard nodded, “Definitely. They were so excited when they found out,” he said happily, all thoughts of Frank temporarily pushed from his mind. “Are you two planning a wedding?” he asked, curiously, not having heard anything about an upcoming wedding for the two.

To Gerard’s surprise, Olivia shook her head. “Really?” he asked. “Why not?”

The red-haired woman quirked a smile. “We’re stubborn.” She laughed a little and shook her head. “It’s almost a kind of test, you know? If we can stay together without the all-binding vows of marriage then we’re good for anything.”

Gerard nodded. That made sense actually, if he thought about it. He did wonder though… “So, do you think all of this,” he pointed at the party around them, “is stupid? Too much of a precaution?”

She shook her head vigorously. “Oh, no. No, your fathers have talked about getting married for the longest time. I don’t think it’s too precautionary at all. Camilla and I completely support their decision.” She smiled and the way her lips curled gracefully into the curve almost reminded him of Frank’s. The question briefly crossed his mind of which of the two women was Frank’s biological mother.

They fell into the motions of the dance then, just letting themselves sway with the soft beat. He caught a glimpse of Frank and Jamia on the dance floor and frowned. They looked like they were having so much fun, despite the slow tune they were dancing to. Frank spun Jamia in a circle and she laughed, a cheerful little sound that carried all the way to Gerard’s ears.

Soon though, Jamia was taking Frank’s hand and leading him off the dance floor. Gerard looked away, not wanting to know where they were going. He didn’t care, he tried to tell himself.

He allowed Olivia to turn them with the rhythm, and he could no longer see them. All the better anyway.

When they turned again, Gerard was surprised to see that Frank and Jamia were still there, across the dance floor, standing together. Jamia’s arms were crossed against her chest and she looked like she was aggravated with Frank about something. Frank was kind of slumped down, looking back at her, his back angled away from Gerard. Just before Olivia pulled him into a dense crowd of people, Gerard saw Frank turn his head and look right at him. He wondered if it was an accident, but it had certainly seemed pointed.

The song ended and he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Camilla standing there, smiling at him, her hazel eyes shining brightly in the lights under the dinner pavilion. “Mind if I cut in?”

Gerard gladly gave Olivia over and walked back to his dinner table, taking a seat and resting his elbows on the table. He watched Olivia and Camilla dance, then switch partners occasionally with his own fathers. They all looked so happy. He huffed out a breath.

For the third time that night, he felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned, looking up to see Jamia. She looked even more beautiful now that her hair was slightly looser in its bun from dancing around. Gerard could understand why Frank would date her.

She gave him a bright smile and pointed out into the dark, in the direction that Gerard knew that tree was in. Before he could ask though, she walked away, and Gerard noticed that Frank was nowhere to be seen. He looked out in the direction she had pointed again. What do I have to lose anyways? he asked himself before getting up and walking out into the darkness.

He found the tree pretty easily and the sounds of the party faded just as they had the night before, far enough away to be ignorable.

“Frank?” he said in a sharp whisper. Shit. What if this was some kind of plan to murder him? Maybe Jamia was a crazy psychopath.

Gerard jumped when someone walked out from the shadows of the tree to stand right in front of him. That someone was Frank though, so his pulse slowed down a little. Frank was smiling that smile and he had a white flower in his hand, holding it out like an offering.

“Is that…did you get that from the flower arrangement on your table?” Gerard asked, eyebrows raised. He had been there when his fathers were arguing about the flowers they would put on the tables. He was almost positive it was the same one.

Frank’s smile dropped, but he didn’t stop holding out the flower. “Will you just take the flower, damn it.”

Gerard reached out and took the flower from Frank’s hand, bringing his eyes back up after a moment. “What are you—where’s Jamia?” Gerard looked around, expecting, for some reason, to see Jamia come out of the shadows too and maybe take Frank away.

Frank leaned against the tree, the rough bark probably ruining the delicate fabric of his suit jacket. “What does Jamia have to do with this?”

“You…you and her? You’re…?”

“Dating? No. We’re friends,” Frank laughed, reaching out, and grabbing Gerard’s wrist, pulling him closer, so they were almost chest-to-chest. “Besides…I kind of have my eye on someone else.”

Gerard blinked, confused. So Jamia and Frank weren’t together? A small smile crept up on his face and he felt Frank’s fingers lace with his.

“Dance with me?” Frank asked.

“Out here? You can hardly hear the music.”

The song changed off in the distance and, by all forces of luck, the new song was slow, perfect for dancing.

“Well, if we walk all the way back, we’ll miss the song,” Frank told him with a smirk, pulling him away from the tree a little. He let go of Gerard’s hand and moved his own to settle on Gerard’s waist.

Gerard cautiously lifted his arms so that they wrapped around Frank’s neck. They didn’t really dance so much as sway back and forth, like some middle school dance Gerard had only ever gone to once. But all the same, when Frank pulled him in closer, his hands wrapping around the small of his back, until Gerard was settled neatly against his chest, Gerard thought he’d never felt something so perfect.

Even after the song ended, Frank didn’t let go of him and continued the same slow motion sway they had going, his hands warm on Gerard’s waist, and breath lightly ghosting over his neck.

They stayed like that for a while. Gerard wasn’t sure how long it was - Two songs? Maybe ten? - before Frank pulled away with a smile. He lifted a hand and brushed a piece of hair out of Gerard’s face.

“Gerard? Gerard, are you out here?”

Gerard jolted and looked away from Frank as his Dad came up to the tree, looking and sounding drunk. He laughed, reluctantly letting go of Frank so he could lead his Dad back to the party.

“I’ve been looking for you, Gee. Where have you been?” his Dad asked.

“Just…you know, around.”

*****

Everyone was leaving, calling cabs or riding with their designated drivers home. The reception had officially been over hours ago, but everyone had stuck around for a good while, caught up in the festivities.

Gerard hadn’t really seen much of Frank since then, having lost him in the crowd. He still couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face and several people had asked him about it. He would just smile wider in response.

The last people standing around, trying to help clean up a bit, were the Ieros once everyone else had cleared out. Gerard felt a tap on his shoulder and he found Frank there. The other boy grabbed his hand suddenly and pulled him off to the side, a little out of earshot from everyone else.

Frank took Gerard’s hand and pulled out a pen from his pocket. He scribbled down something, the point of the pen ticklish as it pressed into his palm. When Gerard took his hand back, he looked over the message. It read simply, _Movies?_ Followed by seven digits and _–xo frank._

Gerard nodded excitedly and Frank seemed to take that well, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Gerard’s lips. He pulled away, as they heard one of Frank’s mother calling for him to leave, neither able to wipe the smiles off their faces.

“Coming, Ma,” Frank said. He gave Gerard a final smile and squeeze of his hand before he was running after his mothers in the other direction.


End file.
